Solasta Academy: All Hallows Eve

Chapter Twelve

 Calia slowly peeled Arzhel's arm off of her waist and climbed out of bed. Her eyes refused to open just yet as she wanted to savor every bit of sleep she could before class started. She had an hour before her alarm went off but she was severely thirsty. She quietly opened her bedroom door and into the kitchenette where she found Lottie's leftover cup from the cabinet and filled it with water. As she drank, she opened her eyes slightly to see her friends dead asleep in the living area—almost like they were watching over her as she healed. Gods, each one of them was great. It was a wonder she found them when she did because she wasn't sure who she would be without the orphan misfit club. Lottie and her charming personality and colorful language always got her in trouble. Jade and her quiet demeanor, but when she felt like it, could surprise anyone. Elliot and his protective side gave Calia the best brotherly hugs that almost squeezed the life out of her. Lastly, Torin and his flirtatious attitude always made her roll her eyes. She knew all of it was just an act. The way they put on a show to hide their own pain. To bury it like Arzhel does.

As she set the cup in the sink, she thought of what Arzhel told her last night. The way he was forced to bury his heart in fear of his Father. She wondered if that was why he was so good at tending to her wounds. It was because he had to learn to tend to his own when his cowardly Father put his hands on him. Calia seethed at the thought of that man hurting Arzhel. If she was ever given the chance to meet the man, she knew there was nothing holding her back from striking him with her lightning until he was nothing but a pile of dust.

She quietly went back to her bedroom where she found the boy sleeping soundly, his face buried in her pillows. Calia found it surprising how peaceful he looked when he was asleep and she wanted to cherish the image forever in her mind. He was only a boy when his mother left him to a monster. Arzhel's brothers did the same years later and he had to learn how to survive on his own. And he actually believed it was his fault—that he deserved every bit of pain he suffered at the hands of his Father. Calia could see the pain he liked to hide from her and the way he struggled with the idea of her attraction to him. All she could do was stare at the lovely boy in her arms and pray to all the Gods listening that he deserved all the happiness this life could offer. That he deserved her.

Sighing, she went to her bathroom before going back to bed. Once she was done, she began washing her hands as she gazed in the mirror. Everyone who ever met her would say she looked like a fallen star. Her silver—almost white—wavy hair was a mess along her chest as she clearly saw the bags under her silver eyes. Calia's tanned skin was pale now and her lips were cracked. She frowned at herself—at the way she changed so much since she entered the prestigious Solasta Academy. Once upon a time, she was a bright student who always raised her hands. Always smiled when the teacher called upon her and laughed with her mother until she went to sleep. That was her life. But now it was dead alongside her mother. It was gone and she was still grieving that part of her life.

But what was lost is now gained. She found a group of people that loved her as much as she did. They gave her a reason to live when she did not feel like doing so. Her guardians found her when she was at her lowest and gave her a home and family when she did not think that was possible anymore. Hell, they wanted to adopt her. And lastly, she met a boy who saw her like she was the world and not a freak. Even in the midst of the threats against her and visions of her ancestors that sent her spiraling every time, she thought about it, her newfound life was a gift to her, and she was grateful for all of it.

Caia's Fae senses immediately warned her of another presence behind her. In the mirror, the man was standing with a deadly grin on his face, and she spun around to face him. He was dressed in the same attire he wore before he died. His eyes were slitted as there was a red line across his throat, where Professor Blackwood sliced his head off. She gripped the edge of the sink as a way to keep herself calm in front of the man who almost killed her. Coach Gideon was standing in front of her—ready to attack within seconds. "You're not supposed to be here," she mumbled, cursing at herself for her voice quivering slightly.